The run

The breezes blew to kiss the rock and escape, little did they know they were trapped,
for they did miss the exits of that landscape, where no leaves rustled, no wings flapped.
She jumped in, her shawl as an identity drape, he rode quickly on the road he mapped.
The hustle vanished behind the buzzing vape, their relationships with our world snapped.

The breezes whizzed past the speeding car, throwingin the odours of eagles and sands.
their love song was anointing the ailing scar, no words were spoken if not by their hands.
They were aiming for the skies with no star, where no one either cares, or understands.
they saw both the cities, fragile,small and far, one they left and one in the unknown lands.

Had love inspired in them the courage to try, they’d have turned with the road to live then.
Had they tried to stand there, scream and cry, their pains would have faded to feed a pen.
They were vexed by the foolish society’s pry, that was inherited intact from a nomadic den.
The wheels dusted slipping from the road dry, no one knew where they went thence, amen.

Candle

Why do we act like we are a firework rocket,
like we shall die as soon as we are born,
racing all the way, aiming for the sky,
ever running in the race, forever,
when we have a lifetime to go,
a time as long as a lifetime,
maybe we can savour it,
or maybe rest along,
for death is later,
a life later,
savour.

Why do we feel like we are a bursting cracker,

like some magic would turn our lives over,

in a blink of an eye from rags to riches,

believe that we can change at once,

ignoring our inertial imperfection,

knowing it is hard to change,

return to our messy selves,

disappointed much,

change slower,

a tortoise,

forever.

Why do we try to live like the neon lights shine,
ever bright to be noticed by every passer by,
ever constant without any ups and downs,
smooth out every such randomness,
that the fluttering life throws at us,
forgetting that random pulses,
of emotions and events,
make human lives,
like your life,
or my life,
life.

Why do we not see that we are naught but a candle,

flickering to the playful nature's slightest breezes,

growing brighter from birth to death, glowing,

dying out when our wax runs out, lifetime,

dancing to our nature's unpredictability,

and that we could die at any point,

if only a bad hand would swish,

or a witch would wish,

we are all candles,

burning to die,

flickering,

living.

The Wild West

Day (-1) (21/09/17) : 

It all started 6 months ago, when I found that I would get a big vacation for Dussera. The first thoughts that came in were Goa and the coast, and the initial planning went on for 5 months before I finally skipped Goa from the list because of dates and distances. As I look back now, I do not regret my decision at all. The plan was called set, and I started to pack, got my chain tensed and tightened, checked each and every lubricating spot, oils and coolant, kits and the bike was all set to go. I was procrastinating making the list of things to pack until afternoon and then jotted a huge list of useless things only to be left panicking if I’d have to carry more than one bag. That day, as I went home from the office, I quickly started packing and pushed everything on my list into the bag. Everything fit in, except a couple of guards for my partner, some duct tape and lubes. I took a smaller lunch bag and shoved them up in. Only minors were left which were to be packed on the riding day. And the preparation ended.

Day 1 (23/09/17) : 

I woke up early, picked and packed everything, and went to the office, half an earlier than the usual, in our ‘rider’ avatar. I had to plan this half an hour too, because I am still embarrassed to be the odd one out, especially when I’m being the better one there (Okay, I don’t go ATGATT to the office on a daily basis.) I passed enough time, thought of sleeping which never happened, waited till afternoon, and walked out all suited up. I got the bike running through the Hyderabad traffic for more than 1.5 hours until I felt I was out all the fuss. I quickly took my break, opened up my guards, bungeed my bag to the pillion seat (Heck, thats what the seat was designed for, nay?) and there I go. The first leg was as boring as it could get. A plain NH-65 running through the barren lands and scarce farms until Humnabad. 

Welcome to Karnataka

Break 2, it was 5 in the evening and I was deciding whether to go to Gulbarga (1.5 hours away) or Solapur (3 hours away) and I did what was sensible. Go to solapur!!! “140km away and 3 hours 15 minutes? You mad, google?“ I said to myself as I got comfortable with the stance. 30 kms down and the highway suddenly disappeared, leaving potholes and diversions. 30 more and I realised my foolishness. The sun sank, 6:45 in the evening, I was riding solo between trucks and potholes. I saw a lodging and should have retired, but hey, It’s just 75km more, I can do it, and I moved on. 15km more, 7:30 in the night, and I had to take a break. “60 to go, it must take an hour and a half,” I thought to myself and pulled in, 2km more and I fused out my high beam. I was tailgating trucks on a highway full of potholes. What happened next was something that changed my everything thence.

With 55km more, 8 PM in the night, it started to rain heavily. I had to break at a dhaba, wait for the rain to subside, forward again, wait again and so on. After three breaks and more tailgating, I realised I was all wet and it wouldn’t matter if I get any wetter. So I kept on following the trucks, until I went all my forks deep into one pothole and hit back. I saw another dhaba then, and thought of stopping. I didn’t realise how feeble and weak I was until i slammed the rear discs only to skid and scratch my undercowls against the divider. For the moment, I really considered myself lucky, pulled over, waited for the rain to become a drizzle (for almost an hour) and reached a village 10km out of sholapur, walked into the first motel I could spot, and rested. I should have cried, but I was dehydrated.

Every gear and cloth was dripping water, only the bag remained dry. I ate and retired to bed, all the while wondering how mad could I be. And then, the law of real times and distances hit me strongly. 

Day 2 (24/09/17) :

I woke up to my senses, got ready, and got onto the road by 08:30 in the morning. The plan was to meet Vamsi at Kolhapur for lunch and ride down to Dandeli in the evening. I rode quick, crossed Solapur, oh wait, how beautiful was NH65 there, but nevertheless, I turned out towards Kolhapur on state highways. Quickly, the town disappeared and I was in the green pastures. I did not notice it when the barren plateaus changed to lush farms in the rain previous night, but the well-paved roads amidst lively greens made me all comfortable. 

Greenery on the Solapur side

I stopped at a small point only to realize the breakfast options were being limited to wada-pav and pav-bhaji. I resorted to wada-pav, and wondered how did bread become a staple breakfast in the land of Bal Thackeray. Oh yes, all the while in Maharastra, every alternative vehicle had saffron flags marking the rightward inclination. Maybe, they were adapting simaltaneously to the best of cultures. However, breakfast breads and saffron flags sound hypocritical. I guess some RSS guy should explain it better. 

Everything got better as I crosssed Sangli towards Kolhapur. Greenery everywhere, hills and winds and clouds, wider roads and life everywhere. I and Vamsi met where our highways joined. Blessed we were as we changed the plan to stay back in Kolhapur seeing the huge clouds that were ahead of us. And we stayed that night in Kolhapur, and witnessed a storm, and sneezes.

Day 3 (25/09/17) : 

Plans were quickly changing and we decided to cover up. We woke up early, started quick and were out on NH48 by 07:45 in the morning. It was mist and fog everywhere. We drank chai, our bikes consumed petrol, and we rolled quick enough to reach the Suvarna Vidhana Soudha in Belagavi for breakfast. Constructed to be an architectural marvel, this monument looked like a fort from the farther spots. We had the Idli-Poori-Bhaaji (a typical mixed breakfast at this border) as Suprabhatam was being played at 09:45. And then, we went further until Hubbali by 11, cut off towards Karwar and the roads got serious. A 2-lane straight highway with innumerable trucks playing the overtaking game. An elephant was being transported in one and I was wondering,”what if the elephant decided to step aside by one stride?”

Suvarna Vidhana Soudha

It was a small stretch before we ended up on a quite NH52 that was flowing smoothly, village after village, thickening forests. By 1:30 in the afternoon, we crossed Yallapur and the roads have become as Dandeli-cious as they could. It started raining by 2, and we stopped near a village we had just passed, for the forests were pure. It poured down heavily for 30 minute before diminishing into the tiny drizzle. 

I and Vamsi passing time in the rain

Dandelicious

Rainstop

We moved ahead, raincoats on, lunched at 3, cut out from the 52nd soon after lunch to cross the Gangavati river, a river being formed by many rains like the one we had just witnessed. There was peace in the calm state road that turned on the ghats, even more peace in the break we took over the bridge, and the tiny villages with blue-uniformed students and teachers and middle-class employees and RTC buses (Childhood? YES! YES!!) We were stopped by rain again at 5, on a stunning land, witnessing sea waters in the far off. We soon met the NH66, rode to Kumta in a drizzle that slowly rose into steady rain, and located a resort 20km into the villages. We rode there to hear that it was not in operation, moved further to a resort suggested and ended up at “Nirvana nature.” 

Panorama of the Gangavati bridge

Clouds kissing mountains

Backwaters and sea beyond the ghats

This was a resort by a pristine fishing beach, after jogging up a 2km muddy rocky paved way, run by an ayurveda practitioner with treehouses and cottages and everything Goa-ish. Oh, and there were guide dogs, dogs so loyal at their job that they withstood mosquitoes crying as we had breakfast. No wonder on dog’s faith. And there were crows that came fishing, and dogs that were chasing crows (oh, wild dogs can sprint at Bolt speeds) and the beach and sunset. Goa? No Regrets! As the night fell, I and Vamsi got into serious discussions about how to move the next day only to end up “Let’s go where the universe takes us.”

Sunset at Nirvana Beach, Kumta

The VIBYOR sunset

Coconut plants - Nirvana nature

Day 4 (26/09/17) : 

The day began in the lap of nature, and we were tired to start quick. Several ups and downs later, we were on the road by 0830, back on NH66 by 9, riding freeway in search of a good mechanic (I had voluntarily deflated at a bunk ignorant that their machine was defunct and Vamsi’s chain was on the looser side). By 10AM, we were at the exit to Jog falls via NH206 and SH144. The road was all plain within small villages and towns and lots of domestication everywhere. We ran for an hour until we came across a stream in the middle of nowhere passing under us. There was a surprising waterfall very far off that was pouring waters to the stream below. We relished it with a break, met a family travelling down the hills and normally surprised at our mode of transport. I still couldn’t find that tiny bridge or the waterfall on google maps.

A cloudy dawn at Kumta beach

That nameless waterfall in a panoramic view

The journey continued until we came to the Jog falls view point, ate some maggi and omelettes and went to see the “WORLD FAMOUS JOG FALLS” (Yes, that’s what the tourism department wants you to call it) Yes, they were pretty, very tall, and the sounds of water were echoing. We spotted a couple of houses just over the falls that were away from the tourist fuss and wondered how life would be there. And still, Jog falls are overrated. Vamsi noticed how we tend to love the normal things, just water trickling down after rains, and in that madness, get carried. Well, love, you know. A couple of panoramas later, we realised that it was not as ecstatic if not for the entire journey that bought us there. We set ahead, went in the wrong road for 5 kms, and then turned back and caught up with the SH50, that led from Jog falls to Bhatkal, the most beautiful leg of the entire journey. 

Jog falls - The Panorama

So high I couldn't see the crash or the foam

I want that lone house 

The road was a forest ghat, and the weather was right on spot. 24 Celsius, the sun and clouds playing around and the Sharavati wildlife sanctuary was everything we needed. The trees grew higher and higher, and we were riding under a 100 feet high canopy of sals, bamboos and jackfruits. The trees cut for the road were laid right beside and had girths more than our heights, and the 10 foot wide road still maintained its way. The roads were completely shadowed for long stretches. Just when I was busy leading into the wild, very sparsely touched, this peacock crossed my path. (Tell me a superstition of what happens next.) We rejoiced and sped towards Bhatkal and fell back on NH66 by 03:45PM, tired and hungry. I was too fascinated and absorbed to stop and click a picture.

We had Poori Bhaji and lots of coconut water and sped towards Udupi. 50 minutes of boring diversions, construction patches, rash trucks and potholes later, we reached our planned end of the previous day. Maravanthe beach, and we did no wrong in missing our plan. The beach was witnessing the construction too. Nevertheless, we stopped. Here is a NH bound by sea on one side and backwaters on the other. We clicked a few pics and moved on over the new bridge and suddenly, the road became smooth as butter. Kundapur onwards, the highway was the typical beautiful 4-laner NH and we quickly went to Brahmavar, just on the outskirts of Udupi and rested for the day.

I know you wouldn't believe me, but it is a candid.

Vamsi got a candid too

Break at the beach - Selfie

NH66 along the sea

Road, sea and sky, things to get you high

DAY 5 (27/09/17) : 

We started out early at 07:30 scared of google’s rain prediction for the entire route that day. It was cloudy and we quickly caught up for our way to Kunchikal falls and Shimoga. We were back in the clean forest ghats, in the morning, with clouds all around us. Right after we stopped for a break to see the clouds below us, Vamsi’s bag had slipped off the pillion set. We fixed it under better grip and moved on, and reached the Kunchikal checkpost by 10:30 where the police told us that we cannot go see the falls because its steep and slippery in the rainy season (but that’s when the falls run too.) 

Random waterfall 2

Random view enroute Shivamogga

Random waterfall 3

Riding alongside the clouds - The best experience

A tree I could estimate the height to be over a 100 feet - one of the many of these ghats

Tall trees and smooth roads

We moved further on SH52, stopping for a brief break on Varahi river and riding further towards Shimoga. An hour more and the ghats ended, the plains were here, and so were the problems. With rich rainfall comes rich vegetation and fertile soils, and thence come human settlements called villages, and where people get a good road, they spoil it. That was the story on SH52 for an hour more, and we were at Shimoga by 01:45PM. People were having picnics towards the near end of Shimoga. Finally, we got Vamsi’s chain tightened which seemed to be hanging from the axle. A quick lunch later, we headed to Dawangere on one of the straightest stretches of road I ever saw (So straight you could design rulers alongside.)

Stationary waters of Varahi river, on the top of Ghats - serenity

Stationary waters of Varahi river, on the top of Ghats - serenity - 2

The beautiful SH52 - Kundapura to Shimoga 

The super smooth Karnataka state highways - Neighbour's envy, owner's pride

The last leg to Shivamogga, tall trees and good forests

1 hour down, 3km away from the next small town of Honnalli, we were stopped by the police. After we showed him all our documents, he said we were being fined for overspeeding. For cruising at 70kmph on the world’s straightest road ever? (But yeah, we had to give him what he demanded, 100 bucks each, trust me it felt much happier giving to the staff who maintained the Sharavati when they directly asked “Dasara mamool”, but thats all we can do, or get into an argument there, which we were not in the mood for.)

iPhone 6S does it so well at times

Pit stop post Honnalli, when the plains started turning into the plateaus

A few more hills and glasses of sugarcane juice later, back on NH48, 6km away from our rest for day, it started pouring down. Learn it now, umbrellas are of little use on the bigger NHs. Wet again, we stopped that night in Davangere, at this spectacular hotel called “SriGandha Residency” on SH76, special mentions for their excellent rooms, food and maintenance. 

SriGandha, Davangere - A pure bliss

Day 6&7 (28 & 29/09/17): 

We woke up late resting well after 3 tiring days, and set out towards Anantapur. Out at 9, Challakere by 10, everything was smooth without a breakfast. And then the tarmac disappeared. We were following Google maps sincerely, and some efforts later, found ourselves at KalyanDurg by 1:30. We continued to move after a drinks break and then noticed the windmills. There were so (sooooooo) many of them and got denser as we moved from Challakere to Anantapur.

A dry Vedavathi river bed marking the entrance to Rayalaseema

Windmill stop 1

Windmill stop 2

Windmill stop 3

Windmill and us

Finally, a few pics later, 10kms away from Anantapur, we were stuck in a violent downpour again. Lots of water everywhere, and rains no one had anticipated except us. We stopped in 3 legs for almost one hour, and moved into the city and stopped at a simple hotel. And that’s when we ate the only meal that day, 5:30 PM in the evening. The night passed, and the next day, we started early towards Hyderabad. For 3 hours, the clouds kept condensing on our visors on the smooth NH44, and we eventually came until the last toll gate of Hyderabad almost eventless. 

Plain NH44, controlled cruise at 100kmph for one leg, and 80 for the other, and everything was perfect until rain struck us. Less than half an hour journey left, perfect everything and it rains, the fifth time in seven days. Anyways, we were using the service road of ORR and pulled over in a subway and waited patiently. By the way, the service roads are real good except for the speedbreakers. And then, we got home. Safe, satisfied and sound.